The Countdown
by BenAddiction
Summary: What could possibly be better than checking with Scotland Yard for murders, and why is there a countdown on John's computer? A friendship fic, rated T to be safe. Hope you enjoy. Please review (please be kind).


**A/N: Just a little something that popped into my head as I was waiting for the queue for the Hamlet tickets to begin. Hope you enjoy. :-)**

John sat in his chair staring avidly at his laptop screen, his eyes barely moving.

'You know John, getting eye strain from watching porn is going to make for an interesting conversation during your annual visit to the opticians next week.'

'Hmm? Sorry? Did you say something?' asked John as he glanced briefly up at his flatmate before returning his gaze back to the laptop in front of him.

Shaking his head slightly with an amused smirk on his face, Sherlock flicked open the internet browser on his phone. Flipping rapidly through the various news sites looking for any interesting or strange snippets of news which may result in a case for the young consulting detective, Sherlock quietly replied, 'No John, I didn't say a word.'

After ten minutes had passed, Sherlock huffed in frustration. His internet search had been unsuccessful, and he was moving quickly from mildly bored to seriously pissed off. Looking across the flat at John, he realised that the older man had not moved since returning his stare to the computer screen some ten minutes earlier.

'John? John! JOHN!' shouted Sherlock in an effort to get his friend's attention.

John jumped and emitted a yelp as Sherlock's yelling finally penetrated his brain, before replying, 'What? What is it? What do you want? I'm busy!'

'Bored! Let's go to the Yard, see if they have anything for me.' said Sherlock leaping up from his seat and striding across the flat to the door.

'You'll have to go ahead without me, like I said, I'm busy.' answered John his eyes constantly flicking back towards his computer.

'Busy?' sneered Sherlock, 'Doing what!? Surely whatever pornographic video you are watching can wait until later?'

'I'm not looking at porn Sherlock. I don't use my computer to look at porn.' replied John, he was interrupted by a loud snort from Sherlock. Taking a deep breath, John continued, 'Fine, yes, okay, but I don't _only_ use my computer for porn.'

Walking around to stand behind John's chair, Sherlock looked down at the computer screen resting on John's lap. Wrinkling his brow into a confused frown, Sherlock moved closer, his head almost resting on John's shoulder.

'Why is there a countdown on your computer? ... Ooh, is it a bomb, do we have to defuse it?' Sherlock's eyes lit up at the thought.

Moving forward slightly to dislodge his friend whose knowledge of personal space seemed non-existent, John shook his head a little in despair at his friend's idea of what constituted a good thing. Sighing, he replied, 'No Sherlock, it's not a bomb. I'm waiting to join the queue to buy tickets to that play. You know! The one I've spoken about non-stop for the last month and a half?'

Sherlock's eyebrows descended into a deep frown, his eyes flickering from side to side as he entered his mind palace searching for information about John. Watching his friend's fruitless search, John rolled his eyes as he waited for Sherlock to leave his mind palace and come back to the here and now. When Sherlock refocused his gaze back on to John, the doctor said with an air of resignation, 'You've deleted it, haven't you?'

'Obviously. I've told you before, I can only store information that is important to the Work, John.' replied Sherlock as he walked over to sofa, laid down, raised his hands to his chin and closed his eyes.

Confusion crossed John's face as he asked, 'Sherlock, what are you doing? I thought you were going to the Yard?'

Sherlock gave a long suffering sigh as he opened his eyes and looked directly at his friend. 'Well I can't go right now! Can I!? You're ... busy! I meant it when I said that I _need_ an assistant.' he said before resuming his previous position.

John smiled widely, 'Thank you. I promise, as soon as this is done, we'll go to the yard and hassle Greg. Try and get a nice juicy murder case for you.'


End file.
